


5 Easy Steps

by 1AbbyNewth5



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Coping Mechanisms, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying, Current Events, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1AbbyNewth5/pseuds/1AbbyNewth5
Summary: A month has passed since Aziraphale last called Crowley, and he suddenly gets a message. Good thing he’s not a heavy sleeper.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	5 Easy Steps

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. “ _This is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style._ ” Bee-EEP!

Crowley opened his eyes slowly.

“ _Again…? Uh- Crowley? Are you there? I- I don’t know if you can hear me, but ah… I don’t… I’m not feeling my very best, and uhm… I was hoping we could talk to get my mind off of it, but… I know you don’t like being interrupted in your sleep, so… I won’t stop you. If you want, you can call back whenever… Goodnight, Crowley._ ”

“ _Angel, I’m right next to you._ ”

“ _CROWLEY-!_ ”

With a jump, Aziraphale dropped the phone to the floor. He clutched his chest, holding onto the corner of his desk. Crowley simply had his hands in his pajama pants’ pockets, with this subtle concerned look on his face. His hair was noticeably a tangly mess.

“You alright?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale swallowed and tried to compose himself by straightening his vest.

“Not after seeing you inches close!” he exclaimed. “At least knock the door, Crowley…!”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley shrugged a bit. “Heard you weren’t feeling great, and I wanted to see for myself.”

“Well…” It sounded like Aziraphale was conjuring up some kind of retort, but he paused. His frightened posture softened. “You didn’t have to, but… thank you.”

Crowley’s response was a small nod.

“Nobody has seen you outside, breaking any rules,” Aziraphale asked. “Right?”

It took Crowley a few seconds to remember that there was a lockdown still going on. “Oh- no, I miracled here, in the middle of your message.”

“Okay…” Aziraphale’s voice was quiet. Crowley glanced down to see his hands wringing together. He’s seen this before.

Without looking behind him, Crowley plopped down on the couch, patting an open spot. “C’mere, sit.”

Aziraphale promptly did so, adorably politely sitting next to Crowley, with his hands on his lap.

The two sat in silence for a moment. Crowley was observing Aziraphale, catching up notice that every few seconds, he’d try to come up with something to say, only to stop himself multiple times. His fingers were clutching onto each other as if they had their own little ten lives, and they all depended on hugging so tightly, that the knuckles almost went white. Crowley took notice of this, seeing Aziraphale’s face turning pink. He could sense the anxiety in the whole bookshop. He’s seen this before.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, only getting skittish glances. “Aziraphale-”

“Yes!” The response was quick, with the angel turning to Crowley with a small and nervous grin. “What- What is it?”

Crowley pursed his lips. “You gonna… tell me what’s wrong?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and stopped for the nth time. “Well… I don’t know if it’s something that is wrong at all.”

“I mean, it’s gotta be something that’s bothering you,” Crowley said. “You did say you’re ‘not feeling your very best’, so… what’s up?”

A small sigh. “I’m just… antsy, I suppose.”

“Over what?” Crowley asked. His arm was draped over the top of the couch, and over behind Aziraphale’s shoulders. The angel wiggled a bit and cleared his throat.

“Over… this.” He gestured weirdly with his hands. Crowley doesn’t get it. “This year has been… strange. We _all_ thought this year would be something special and exciting, but it just… spat at us with a bunch of things at once.”

Crowley shrugged lightly. “We’ve had big pandemics every one hundred years. It happens, angel. You know that.”

“I do,” Aziraphale replied, hands still clasped together. “I do, but I… I know it’s nothing for me to worry about, and I know I should try to focus on myself for once, but… so much has happened, that I _can’t_ focus on myself at all. Even in America, I’m worried. Can’t people just go by the rules? Is it _that_ hard for people, who claim to just _love love LOVE_ their country so much, to stay indoors and respect others by how they look? Whatever happened to common human decency?!”

Crowley has been taking a nap for a month, so he obviously hasn’t caught up on the news, especially with what’s happening in America… but from the tone of Aziraphale’s voice and his wording, Crowley could tell that something big must be going on over there… again.

Aziraphale leaned back on the couch, with Crowley noticing his hands gesturing around and shaking as he spoke. “And I _know!_ I _know_ there are good people, who are fighting and protesting for a _wonderful_ cause, and they’re all putting their lives on the line, but… no matter what I hear, from two people taking walks outside, to a single person I let visit my bookshop for comfort, it’s _al_ ways bad news, _every_ where…”

Crowley silently nodded along, and Aziraphale’s voice started to waver. “I’m _sick_ of it. To the point where I’m not sure what news could be real or not- I…”

Aziraphale almost flinched at the feeling of a careful hand on his back. Crowley was frowning, watching Aziraphale attempt to wipe his eyes with his trembling hands multiple times.

“I just feel so helpless,” he said as a whisper, now clenching fists against his lap. “At first, I liked staying in the bookshop, because staying home would be helping people. I’m an _angel,_ I’m _supposed_ to help people. But now, with everything that is happening out _there…_ I _hate_ it here. I _hate_ staying cooped up, I _hate_ not being able to do anything about these problems that have absolutely _nothing_ to do with me, or you.”

For some reason, it’s always a surprise to Crowley that Aziraphale would sometimes use the word ‘hate’. And he loves just about everything in the world.

“I’m just…” Aziraphale held in a breath and sighed shakily. “Not feeling like myself lately. I want this ‘bad news’ year to be over. And we thought 2016 and Armageddon were bad, heheh…”

He laughed, weakly. It was a poor time to add humor into this, but Crowley would have to give the angel credit, at least he tried.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale kept wiping his eyes, sniffling lightly. “Oh, I’m- I’m sorry, Crowley, I- I… I figured you wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this. I knew waking you up was a bad idea.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley shifted on the couch, facing the angel. His hand was still on his back, comfortingly. “Feeling like all of that is okay. You’re not the only one-”

“ _I know,_ Crowley!” Aziraphale was gritting his teeth, making Crowley hold his hand back. The angel quickly looked guilty from his sudden snappy tone, and tears welled back up in his eyes. His voice broke. “I know.”

“Angel-”

Aziraphale then started crying. Frowning deeply, Crowley immediately pulled him into a gentle hug. “I’m sorry- It’s okay, it’s alright. I’m here, angel. Shhhshhshshshshshh. I’m right here.”

Aziraphale tugged onto the back of Crowley’s shirt, sobbing. Brushing his fingers through the angel’s hair and rubbing his back, Crowley began rocking from side to side. “Let it out now, Aziraphale, it’s alright. I’m here, it’s okay.”

Minutes have passed, and Aziraphale’s crying quieted down. Crowley figured that he’d be feeling better by now, but once his arms went free, Aziraphale’s grip around him tightened, which began another round of soft crying.

“ _Shhhhhh._ ” Crowley sighed and continued rubbing Aziraphale’s back gently. “Breathe. You’re alright.”

There were only small, desperate whimpers. Crowley sighed through his nose, feeling his eyes sting a bit. His eyebrows then raised, remembering something. He put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Aziraphale, look at me.”

Aziraphale was lifted off of Crowley, but his head was down with his eyes shut closed. Crowley cupped his cheeks, wiping dried tear streaks off. “Look at me, angel.”

Melting at his touch, Aziraphale’s hand went up to hold Crowley’s. His eyes opened slowly, puffy from crying, looking into Crowley’s.

“You wanna try something for me?” Crowley asked. “I think it’ll help.”

Both hands were being held as the two shifted on the couch. Aziraphale cleared his throat multiple times.

Crowley held up a hand freely. “Name five things you see.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, and stopped.

“Five things you can see,” Crowley said. “You don’t have to list every single thing in the shop.”

“I know…” Aziraphale’s voice croaked, and he cleared his throat again. “Uh… The lamp… the desk… the bookshelf… the phone… and you.”

“Alright,” Crowley said, holding up four fingers. “Four things you can feel.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. With his leg dangling off the edge of the couch, his toes wiggled in his sock. “My socks…”

He glanced down to see his thumb fiddling underneath his pinkie ring. “My ring…”

He gripped onto the blanket on the couch. “The blanket…”

He felt Crowley’s hand holding onto his, carefully. “And you.”

Crowley held up three fingers. “Three things you can hear.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well, that one must be a bit difficult to understand, don’t you think…?”

One of Crowley’s eyebrows quirked upward, and he was smirking. Aziraphale blushed. “Right. Uh… me…”

He looked around the room, seeing his record player, not playing anything. “Whatever song is playing in my head… if that counts…”

“It does, don’t worry,” Crowley said.

“And you,” Aziraphale finished.

Smiling softly, Crowley held up two fingers. “Two things you can smell.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath through his nose, and sighed with a small smile. “My leftover cake from yesterday…”

Another deep breath, and Aziraphale blinked up at Crowley. “And you…”

Crowley was curious as to what the Someplace Aziraphale might have caught that smelled like him, but another part of him just went, “ _No, he’ll just fuss over how weird you smell, you’ve been sleeping for a month, get it together, man._ ”

Crowley shook it off, and held up one finger. “One thing you can taste.”

“Oh, now that’s just too many to choose from,” Aziraphale muttered, making Crowley snicker. The angel snapped his fingers, in an attempt to recollect any remaining taste from the cakes he’s had. His hand then clenched into an excited fist, and he grinned. “The cherries from my Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte!”

Crowley’s smile widened along with Aziraphale’s. He held onto both of his hands now, feeling the trembling go away. A little bit of the anxieties were still there, but at least the angel was smiling.

“It wasn’t any miracle,” Crowley said. “But you can use that little shtick to help you if you’re ever feeling worried again.”

“I still am feeling worried…”

“And that’s okay.” Crowley’s voice was soft. “You can just use it to be more aware of your surroundings instead of what’s going on somewhere else. And yeah, it doesn’t get rid of how you’re feeling, but it helped, right?”

Aziraphale nodded slowly. “It did.”

“Right,” Crowley replied, cupping the angel’s cheek again. “It’s just a little reminder that you’re still here. And you’re safe. You have every right to be worried about America. There can be dumb people and there can be smart people. Try not to let it take over your whole head when you think about it. Okay?”

Aziraphale nodded again with a smile. “Alright, I’ll try. Thank you, Crowley.”

“No problem, angel.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale again, pulling him in for another tight hug. “If you feel the need for help, just ask me. I’ve helped you dozens of times before, and I’ll keep doing it dozens of times again.”

There was a tearful chuckle. “I just don’t want to push all of my troubles onto you.”

“I honestly don’t care,” Crowley said. “I’m not the _best_ therapist demon in the world, but I still want to help you in any way that I can.”

The only response to that was Aziraphale’s grip, tightening around Crowley’s shirt. He could practically feel the angel smiling. He could tell he was thankful.

Minutes have passed.

“You know, Crowley… you don’t have to stay over here.”

“Yeah, I know. But I want to anyway.”

“Oh… you’re too kind.”

“‘Kind’ is a four-letter-word, Aziraphale.”

“Uh… you’re too… great?”

“Better.”

A tiny scoff, but the hug didn’t break. “I admire you, but you can be a real pain in the wing over such simple words.”

A shrug. “Eh. What can you do.”

“Well… nothing, really.”

“Great.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfiction? More like self-projection~! 👈😎👈
> 
> In all seriousness though, this was really hard to write. I didn’t exactly know how I wanted this fic to start, so I just wrote different ones multiple times and picked the one which I thought was best and went with it. I’ve also been projecting myself onto Aziraphale a lot lately, and writing stuff like this really helps. Hope y’all liked this! - Abby ❤️


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